


reach for my hand

by sapphickagero



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Flashbacks, Holy Knight Marianne, I could and should write a longer version, Implications of violence, Marianne POV, Post-Time Skip, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphickagero/pseuds/sapphickagero
Summary: Once upon a time Edelgard offered her hand and now it is time for Marianne to offer hers.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	reach for my hand

It had all started with a touch of their fingers. Perhaps it had been a mere fraction of a second, or even less, Marianne longer knows not the length of time their fingers had met for the first time. No matter the short duration of holding hands, Marianne had felt that she had been gifted a pair of wings to begin life anew, newfound strength drawn from the warmth of another. It had been the first thing that Marianne had experienced, the first moments free of the burden that weighed heavily upon her shoulders — even if it had been a process difficult to find completion in (the chains of bearing a crest are heavy and dense after all).

Their path was a path where you do not walk alone.

At first she didn’t know why she ended up developing such a strong faith in the fierce leader of the Black Eagles. She had been very little alike to Marianne and it wasn’t as if her friends had encouraged her to be closer to her (they had been all intimidated themselves — Edelgard spoke bluntly even despite her noble refinement, determination and confidence always aglow in her aura each time she had passed Marianne in the halls).

And yet now here she stood, Blutgang wielded tightly in silver armor clad hand, an utterance of a spell a whisper upon her lips. Vicious reds splash across her gaze, path surrounded by the flames set forth by the dragon and no longer does she feel the shame, the fright that had once burdened her shoulders. Though her armor had been cracked through the long hours of battle, did she remaining standing, a testament to the violence and the threat of death that presented itself in the form a beast colored white and silver — stark against the ever living flames that surround both.

Even in the deafening noise of battle could she hear the roars of the beast known as the Immaculate One, rising from some twisted sense of grief and loss to a rage that humanity dare defy her tyranny, to know their value upon this world. The flames only silhouettes her beastly form in a way that she has been stretched to proportions ever frightfully fantastic to lay one’s gaze upon. The echoes of her roars only furthers the Immaculate One’s need for domination and vengeance against the ones that dare defy a fate that would have shackled them to a darkness that she would not have wished upon anyone. 

All the more reason they need to achieve success. And Edelgard would not be alone to achieve freedom — not when Marianne is standing before the beast of unnatural proportions, hand upon her sword, keeping guard over the kneeled form of Edelgard, crimson having bloomed upon her lips — a recovery from the encounter with the knight known as Gilbert, proof of her victory painted in scarlet upon Aymr.

Marianne remembers the time, almost with a bittersweetness, of the time in which she had been the one to kneel in the wild grasses and flowers of the field at Gronder, a hand raising in both acceptance and guidance above her.

It had been a promise for the future, a promise that has blossomed after five years of war, and Marianne has long grown used to the idea of choosing her own fate, not to be defined by the crest that she had believed to curse her life. And now she realizes it was time for them to fulfill that promise, a hand to guide themselves to the future, a path to be walked together and not alone — something that they once had both believed to be true of their future.

“Marianne von Edmund.” Naturally Edelgard had been the one to first approach her fellow student cloaked with secrets and darkness (although in the shining richness of the sun’s golden rays did Marianne appear less a portrait of dark grey, with perhaps a touch of life appearing about her features). It had been the day after the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, and the Black Eagles had claimed victory over their rival houses and yet the house leader of the Black Eagles had taken time to approach her of all people.  
Marianne had not known what her intentions were, and then again, she had not known why there would be any interest in her… Having kept her nature secretive and not a word brushing her lips to any inquiries about her nature. Marianne herself simply wanted to kneel before the beauty of the wildflowers, to listen to the voices of nature that had granted some sort of peace in the turmoil that coiled her heart. 

She had not known the reason given to Edelgard to dive in further about the mysterious girl in possession of a crest even more mysterious.

“Lady Edelgard.” Marianne had murmured her greeting, gaze remaining upon wild flowers painted with azure and the purple belonging to royals. Her face touched by the sun even as she dipped her gaze below. “Am… Would I be of any assistance to you?” She had continued slowly, voice touched with reluctance in greeting the heiress to the imperial throne.

“No need to address me as lady. We are but students at the academy, after all.” Despite her words, Marianne had thought the sun crowned Edelgard with light, her white tresses shining pale gold against the day — perhaps a whisper from the future. After all, there was not a reason to doubt the brightness of her future.

“I… I apologize. It will not happen again.” An apology had been given, Marianne further retreating within herself in fright of the reaction that may have been drawn from the princess. She has heard, after all, that Edelgard could be quick to anger and annoyance.

“It is but an irrelevant worry. I wish to speak with you of another matter.”

What matter could the heiress to the imperial throne of the Adrestian Empire have to speak about with a mere nobleman’s lowly daughter — a nobleman who does not even claim allegiance to the empire. Even more that touched her concerns was the worry that her curse may have fallen upon Edelgard. However, the latter was not aware of the curse that served only to plague Marianne and her future.

Marianne had felt shock traverse her, a feeling so unfamiliar to her, nearly stopping her heart with its electrifying power. Though who she was to deny the request from the imperial princess, even as she had pressed her shoulders inwards — a gesture she had found to be common, as if to shield her from the threats of attention.

“What do you wish to speak to me of…?”

“We have the same eyes. You have long suffered and you have been alone.” She had sucked in a breath so sharply it nearly stuck in her throat. And yet with the words of Edelgard she could not help but peer into her features, once more giving herself into the glimmers of light. Her hands remained folded upon her uniform, fingers curled about flowers she had collected — a remembrance of the flower crowns that she had made a great many times when she was a mere child. And being within feet of Edelgard was she nearly convinced to crown herself with her crown of flowers in the space of a breath. To recognize her suffering and to embrace a new future — her flower crown symbolizing her peace with herself and freedom from her crest.

Even with words left unspoken did Edelgard wield that sort of influence.

Marianne had not known what to say but she had sighed — a sigh slow and soft, sad with the acceptance of her fate and yet with the touch of hope that could shine as the briefest of lights at the end of the darkness. She allowed the words to echo in her mind for a few movements until they were gone before she exhaled and untwisting her fingers.

“I do not wish to compound your suffering with my…” A paused had struggled about her lips, best thinking of how to position her words. “Own curse. You need not suffer needlessly with me, it is a fate alone I must bear.”

Moments passed on and it was a painting of emotions that had bled upon Edelgard’s refined features, anger softened with compassion and understanding, gloved fingers curling into fists and momentarily unfurling, a representation of the stress that may have been felt.

For the fewest moments had Marianne believed she had angered the princess. Though her words were met with determination and the offering of a hand — as if an offering of a choice that Marianne had not believed possible.

“I cannot make your decision, Marianne, nor can I erase the suffering that you have endured. But I offer a new path to forge together, so that we may end our suffering and what bounds us to the ground. You do not need to be alone, I understand very well of the pain of suffering alone and being without any sort of hope.” 

She had took in a small breath, almost with desperation because of the shock of her words, the threat of hope touching her heart. Marianne had long thought it useless to resist against her accursed Crest, a power that she had believed to be much greater than anything else, that she could not dare to defy. And yet when she peered at the gaze of Edelgard, does she realize that she understands. That she understood what the suffering she must have gone through even without a word to pass between them of their past. 

Edelgard had been unlike any other, she had offered understanding and a path to freedom — had she been an answer to her secretive prayers of hope towards the Goddess?

Even so, she could not deny the power of her curse and pessimism always claimed her over hope. “What a wonderful thought you offer, but… My life, freedom is not a choice for me. If I wish to protect those…” She dared not speak a word of the power of her crest, and even so, the fear must have been evident.

“I promise you that with me you would no longer have to suffer alone. In the future I intend to end these burdens and suffering and you would have to no longer face what you are facing alone. Reach for my hand and I promise that we build a better future where we need not suffer. Where others do not have to suffer like we did. I promise this.”

And despite all of the thoughts of pessimism that claimed her mind did Marianne accept her hand.

Now it is Marianne’s turn to guide, standing her ground as the Immaculate One looms before her, rising above the domination of both flames and smoke. Her armor clad boot strikes hard against the debris laden ground made of stone, a step towards the the dragon that was once known as Rhea — the very thing that they have fought to free Fódlan from all through these five years. 

A promise to be fulfilled and Marianne now is far too determined not to allow a tyrant of a dragon to lay waste to their dreams.

Pausing, Marianne slowly turned towards to where Edelgard is kneeling upon the ground, regaining the energy that had been stolen from her in her battle with the Church’s most prominent knight. Though Edelgard appears exhausted (since the last weeks of the war has she been taken with this appearance of exhaustion): her face drawn and sharp, her eyes are fiercely aglow with determination, lips twisted into the expression of a growl, an ignorance of the blood that has been drawn from her injured state. She appears little plagued by her energy, merely needing few moments in recovery, and so Marianne reaches for her, her hand bare of the sword that will be raised towards the Immaculate One — a hand to determine their future and a hand to guide Edelgard with her.

After all, their promise has been made together.

In this firelight, there was something even more powerful about Edeglard — Marianne thinks it is the determination of the Goddess to seek justice that touches her features, something that urges her to walk with her. It is strange to her that she might think her alike the Goddess — she has seen many comparisons to a devil or a demon upon the posters mentioning rewards for the assassination of the traitor of the Church. This is the face five years ago that convinced her to reach for another’s hand and to undertake a new path, no longer alone and no more suffering.

All the more reason that Marianne reaches out for her, hand reaching for the future and another hand to grasp Edelgard — they’ll do this together.

“Reach for my hand and let’s fight for our future.”


End file.
